


Fallacies

by ttfan111robstar1



Series: Little Sebby [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Blankets, Curiosity, Demon Sebastian Michaelis, Diapers, Gen, Non-Sexual Age Play, POV Sebastian Michaelis, Pacifiers, Sebastian Is Curious About Humans, Stuffed Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24259765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ttfan111robstar1/pseuds/ttfan111robstar1
Summary: Sebastian Michaelis finds fallacies in most human ideals. Today, the fallacy of dignity leads him to try something a bit unusual.
Series: Little Sebby [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751755
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Fallacies

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wanted to write a fic with Little!Sebastian. This was what came out. It was nowhere near what I initially pictured, but I think it stayed fairly true to his character in how it was written rather than what I pictured. I'm happy with it. It goes against the grain, perhaps, to do a fic of Sebastian being little, but personally I could see it. I'm hoping by the end you guys might be able to see it too. I hope you enjoy this!

Few things both fascinated and frustrated Sebastian Michaelis more than human ideals. Their bowing to constant societal pressures, their ideals that were full of fallacies, and their utter arrogance in believing that the rest of the world should believe in the same way they do. It was usually laughable- excellent entertainment for himself. As an outsider, he had the rather unique opportunity to observe the human race outside of its societal confines, and draw his own conclusions. While he generally obeyed their customs during the day, at night, the façade would fall away, giving him the time to ponder why humans thought in the way they did.

Today, the idea of dignity played at his mind. His young master had taught him the ways in which a Butler should behave, teaching him the human meaning of the word. As a demon, perhaps the only dignity he truly had to uphold was professional courtesy to those whom he was contractually obligated. Otherwise, there was no such concept in his world. The human concept of dignity, as he saw it, was ripe with folly.

To try and make yourself uphold a standard dictated by your family rank or societal norms was simply ridiculous. Perhaps it was his own experience as a demon talking, but doing what brought yourself pleasure should come before trying to please anybody else. Even when he was bound by contract to a human, he often found ways to give himself pleasure before he served his master. In his minds eye, to try and serve others before you serve yourself was a social construct designed to fail.

It was with this in mind that he set about finishing his evening chores. Something had been niggling at the corners of his mind for decades about humans. One thing that humans had that he never would. Childhood. His young master was certainly not the ideal candidate to learn of it. Though Ciel Phantomhive was indeed still a child, childhood as he’d observed in other humans had ended for his master the night his parents had died. The concept of childhood fascinated him. Those tiny humans had yet to grasp any concept of dignity. They asked only for what they needed and wanted, and served themselves before they did others. In those ways, they were so much like him, and he related to them.

However, there was a small part of him- or perhaps not so small- that envied them. Their parents catered to their every need. They never worried about the things he had to. Their biggest worry was who to play with while he slaved away trying to get one decent meal. Children were always taken care of, and never had to worry about taking care of somebody else. The tomfoolery of servants and the demands of a child Earl never weighed on their shoulders. He’d wondered so often about what it must have felt like to be utterly weightless.

It was only natural, he told himself as he finished the Dishes that Bardroy had so carelessly left in the sink, to want a break. With all he put up with on a daily basis his own emotional burnout was rapidly approaching. He needed just a bit of rest and rejuvenation, if only for a night, to keep himself in check. Were he not careful, the lid he kept clamped tightly over his emotions might go flying off, and his carefully cultivated Butler persona would be blown to smithereens in the process.

He dried off the last dish with a towel and set it in the China cabinet, closing it and putting his gloves back on. He decided to do one more sweep of the manor, to be sure all was in place for the morning, before he could retire for the evening. His young master was sleeping peacefully, the other servants were in bed, the manor was respectably clean, and not a picture was out of place. Finally, he could retire for the night.

He went to his bedroom, closed the door, and turned the lock on his door handle, feeling a sense of satisfaction as he heard the _snick!_ of the lock. He breathed an uncharacteristic sigh of relief. The privacy of his own walls was a steadfast comfort to him on days that were eventful and overwhelming. There was safe harbor in these walls. No servant dared enter here, and though his young master could, he typically did not since he knew he need only call and Sebastian would be there. This room, however small it was in comparison to the rest of the manor, was his little piece of the world, where he did not have to uphold any façade at all. Here, he could simply _be_ , and that was how he preferred it.

His routine was the same upon entering the room. Each day he would take his tailcoat off and hang it on the coatrack by his door. His gloves would then come off and be deposited onto the small table near the coatrack. His shoes slipped off by the door, and then his socks, put into a laundry hamper. His belt would come off and be placed in it’s drawer, before his trousers and shirt would be removed, as would his undergarments. He would bathe in the small en suite bathroom, any sweat, blood, or ash from the day’s labor removed in the process and giving him a fresh start and clean slate for a new day. He would bathe, then drain the bath and dry off. Typically, he’d redress in his butler’s garb and do more tasks for his master, but not tonight. Nights like tonight were the only time he deviated from that routine. When his master had given him little to do in the evening, and he felt himself in need of relaxation and a bit of happiness, the routine changed.

He pulled on a robe, black and monogrammed with his first and last initial in gold thread- a gift from the young master for the sake of teaching him a butler’s ways, particularly in the area of hygiene- and walked toward the foot of the bed he seldom lay on. In front of it was a large black steamer trunk. No human had- nor could- ever open it. The lock was specifically designed to respond to his powers, and could even help him hide the trunk’s contents if he so desired. His young master- being the petulant and stubborn boy he was- had once asked to see it’s contents. The trunk itself had a false bottom. If he unlocked it a certain way, only those contents would be visible. That was what he showed his master, who scoffed at the scores of cat photos and books inside. What was underneath the false bottom, though, was the true secret.

He carefully unlocked the trunk, and heard it open with a musty perfumed breath. The trunk, though customized to fit his needs, was likely older than the manor itself. Still, he couldn’t help the smile that crept upon his face as he opened it. Just for one day, he wanted to understand how the other half lived. Just once, he wanted to not have to carry the weight of the duties of a butler. Just for one night, he could pretend to know what it felt like to be a child who was weightless with no responsibilities at all.

It was as much of a way to relax as it was a bit of an experiment, trying to understand the workings of the human mind and heart. He’d been curious about it for centuries, but had never quite had the privacy to do anything about it, until now. He’d carefully stocked supplies after trips to the market, building his little stash, and finally the time was right to try it out.

The stash was not large or extraordinary in any way. In fact, it only consisted of basic things he knew humans to need at young ages. There were diapers and diapering supplies, a pacifier, a blanket, a black cat stuffed animal, and perhaps two or three children’s books, along with a set of clothes he’d seen male children wear that he’d figured out how to sew for himself over the space of a week. The basics that any human child had. Things that were supposed to give one a sense of comfort.

Well, there was no sense in wasting more time. The night wasn’t getting any younger.

He took one of the diapers, powder, a wipe, and his clothes into his bathroom. Setting them down and removing his robe, he began to try and diaper himself. It was a more difficult task than he’d envisioned- which was really quite remarkable to say about any human task- but eventually he managed and got it on. Then, he merely had to dress himself. That was a bit harder than expected too, if only because of the new bulk of the diaper, but he managed and got on the black footed pajamas, before he buttoned them up in the front. When he was fully clothed, he shut his eyes and tried to take in what he was feeling.

The diaper was bulky, and very loud, but it didn’t feel _bad_ per se, just different. The fabric of the pajamas he now wore was also different than anything he was used to. Cotton. Far less luxurious than the silk and wool he was so accustomed to, and yet comforting all the same. The feelings of that combined to create something akin to safety. He couldn’t quite describe the feeling that came with it in detail. Only that suddenly it felt as though his perspective had made a slight shift. Suddenly he was aware of every little noise the manor made as it creaked and breathed at night. Suddenly it became impossible that the world was any bigger than this room and the one next to it. Suddenly the manor seemed so big, and he felt so small in comparison. Though he knew in his mind that with a snap of his fingers he could set the place ablaze, suddenly it didn’t quite seem to matter. It felt like a snap of his fingers would only make a spark that could easily be put out. A sudden awareness of variables and the unknown had taken some of his confidence with it. His master had a word for that- Shame.

Fascinating.

He’d never experienced that particular emotion in regard to himself. With his other servants and his young master? Most certainly. But in regards to himself, he’d never felt something like that. This intense feeling of anxiety about being seen brought with it a need for comfort. He remembered the pacifier in the other room, but for the moment, he found himself trying something else he’d seen humans do, and stuck his thumb in his mouth, beginning to suckle on it.

From his point of origin, the sucking motion had been instrumental to him when it came to devouring souls. He was well versed in it. Sucking on his thumb did not provide the satisfying nourishment of a soul, but the action was so familiar and so associated with comfort that it did make him feel- if only briefly, a sense of satisfaction. When that left, the feeling of comfort mercifully remained.

He would have gotten up to walk, but the bulk between his legs made him stop and come back down to the floor. Though he did have excellent balance, he had the strong feeling that something like this would take some getting used to. Instead, he crawled into the next room. That, at least, solved the mystery of why even after humans gained the ability to walk, they tended to crawl in those early months. They had to figure out how to balance with the bulk of the diaper.

The thoughts became increasingly less important as he went over to the trunk, and pulled the pacifier out. The only thing in the trunk that wasn’t black other than the books and diapers themselves. The shield around it was a bright crimson. He stuck the nipple in his mouth and began to suck. The texture was strange, and would likely take some getting used to, but it wasn’t awful. The sucking remained a comfort.

Afterward, he pulled out the black cat stuffed animal. It was, perhaps, the most comforting item in the trunk. It was the only cat his master would never take away, and there was cashmere comfort in that. He nearly tittered at the thought of his young master trying. It became a near-laugh as he thought of _Ciel_ trying to care for _him_. The prospect was both outlandish and hilarious. He brought the stuffed animal into his arms, hugging it to his chest as he tried to stifle his laughter. It took a minute, maybe two for him to be able to do so. Then, he was hugging his stuffed cat because he enjoyed the softness. It wasn’t the same as a real cat- of course it wasn’t- but it was still soft. He’d named his stuffed friend Midnight for her black fur. Now, as he hugged Midnight to him, he felt the rest of the world beginning to melt away. It was surprising how the little stuffed cat could make him feel a lot less alone in the world. Being a demon was certainly an isolating experience in the human realm. It was rare happening upon those of his kind, and rarer still that there was any respect between them. He met with reapers, fallen angels, and many other creatures, and never felt understood. But cats were perhaps the only animal that did not judge him, and were uncaring about his nature. This small stuffed reminder of the idea that he wasn’t as alone as the thought brought immense comfort.

He looked back in the trunk, and pulled out the black blanket within. It was small- a baby blanket, really- made of luxurious cashmere. He’d seen it while out shopping one day, and had become enamored with the soft texture. Though it was far smaller than he, and could not be wrapped around himself, he rather enjoyed the feeling of rubbing it against his cheek. He petted Midnight with one hand and closed his eyes as he rubbed the blanket against his cheek with the other, for once becoming so lost in the different sensations he felt that the back of his brain that held all he still had to accomplish for the day fell silent for once.

For one blissful moment, expectations were gone. There was nothing to do but enjoy the feeling of his stuffed animal’s fur against his hand, and the sensation of rubbing his blanket against his cheek. There was nothing to worry about except enjoying the pleasant sensation of sucking on his pacifier. For a single, shining moment, the world was no bigger than his room. For one instant, he felt small, and blissfully calm. When he opened his eyes, he knew the instant would end. But the memory of that feeling would always be within arm’s reach, as close as the beat of his body’s heart. He’d tuck this memory away, and save it for a rainy day when he felt as though he was going to lose his mind. When he felt all was lost, he could pull this memory into his mind, and feel the waves of calm it gave try and soothe his frustrations. Hopefully, it would be enough to last him until the next time he was able to indulge this way.

His eyes opened, and the instant ended. Gravity reimposed itself, and he was weighted down again. He might have chosen to end his little exploration then, but there was one thing that still needed to be tried. He pulled out the three colorful children’s stories, and began to read them. Perhaps, were he in a butler’s state of mind, they might have been a bit simplistic. But from his current perspective, he could understand better why they were made that way. It left more to the imagination. The sentences were broader to foster more imagination of what might happen in between the page turns. It was quite clever, actually. A million different ideas could be churned out in supposition of what might happen, but only one would be right. It was stimulating to the mind. Even now, as he read _The Blue Fairy Book_ (The young master had been sent an advanced copy of it from a publisher interested in partnering with the Funtom company, but he’d blown it off, and thrown it aside. It was only because Sebastian had taken it into his trunk that it was even here now, as the book itself wasn’t due out until next year) _,_ He could feel his mind churning out infinite possibilities for what lie on the next page.

He got through that, _The Peterkin Papers_ , and _Treasure Island_ before he could say he’d officially used everything his trunk currently had to offer. He closed _Treasure Island_ , feeling satisfied with himself. A bit of indulgence truly had relaxed him. He glanced up at the grandfather clock on the other end of his room. It was nearing three in the morning. He supposed his time for indulgence was rapidly coming to a close. However, the knowledge that he could indulge again was a cushion to the rather sad idea of his fun coming to an end. Reluctantly, he began to put things away. The books first, with a gentle pat of thanks for the adventures they held. The blanket next, with one last feeling of the soft fabric. One last suckle on the pacifier, before he took it to the bathroom to rinse and dry it before returning it to his trunk. The footed pajamas came next, and he bid adieu to their warmth and cozy fabric. Last, but not least, was the diaper, which had somehow managed to help his entire being feel safer during this odd little experiment.  
  
He rinsed himself off rather quickly, wanting to rid himself of the sweet scent of the baby powder before he could miss this too much. Then, he went and dressed in his pressed white shirt, black trousers, his favored wool tailcoat, socks, shoes, and lastly, his gloves. Getting a candelabra from a nearby table, he unlocked his door, feeling a bit of sorrow at hearing the sound. He took in a breath before he opened his door and went out into the hall.  
  
A butler’s work was never done, but for one night, at least, it could be suspended for a later time.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, that's all folks! I won't lie, I would like to do a series with Little Sebby, but I wouldn't feel right about it unless he had a caregiver. He deserves love and affection from somebody. If any of y'all have ideas for who that could be, or want to see this continue as a series, lemme know! Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
